


splinters between brothers

by DistantSapphireBlue



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Related, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Not RPF, Sleepy Bois Inc-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:34:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29722869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistantSapphireBlue/pseuds/DistantSapphireBlue
Summary: Beats of silence played out, louder than the first time. Tommy stared at Techno, and Techno stared into the fire, pretending that he didn’t notice Tommy watching him.“This wasn’t supposed to end like this,” Tommy said, when he’d managed to work his voice around the lump in his throat, "You were my friend.” The word ‘were’ echoed around his head, and it hurt everywhere it struck*A sort-of alternate take on how Techno and Tommy could have interacted with each other post the fall of L'Manberg. A fix-it au in a way; set directly after the fall. They talk, they argue, but they care about each other - deep down, they're important to each other. Can be read as family or found family :)THIS IS NOT RPF, THIS IS ABOUT THE CHARACTERS ONLY
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	splinters between brothers

There had been nowhere to go. No one was left. The destruction of L’Manberg had left the majority of them homeless, staring shell-shocked at the wound that had opened up in their world.

None of the perpetrators had stuck around after it had been destroyed, because they didn’t care about the land. It didn’t mean anything to them. Their home, their lives, had never been anything but a political statement to them. A way to prove a point, no matter how many bodies it left in its wake.

The others had gone before Tommy had.

Eret had tried to gather people back in his direction, bringing them back to his home. There wasn’t much that he could offer them, but the castle was warm and well stocked, so most people floated towards him.

Tubbo had ran away. Not that Tommy had seen him go – he’d have followed him if he had, but he’d simply disappeared into the darkness. Gone. No one could have blamed him for it. All that pressure had built up, and there was nothing left for him there.

Which had left Tommy stood in the darkness, a charred silhouette against an equally damaged backdrop.

He was going to wait until all the fire had faded away. Sat on a safe chunk of land, watching the flames burn through what was left of their land, it had seemed increasingly obvious that the fire was never going to fully burn out. The night had drawn in, fast and heavy, and the chill had snuck up his spine, seeping deep into his bones. If he was still shaking, he couldn’t feel it.

When he’d picked himself up, it had been on numb, reluctant legs.

The sadness, the horror, the betrayal that had coursed through his body had burnt him up so fast that there was nothing left. L’Manberg was gone. Wilbur was gone, Tubbo was gone, Techno and Phil were gone. Any semblance of home that he had left was gone, buried under a layer of ash.

He’d wandered, briefly, past Eret’s castle. They’d have taken him in without question, but he couldn’t bring himself to knock. To play out a caricature of _okayness_ with the others as they pretended they hadn’t just seen another war.

Instead he continued on. Numb and aimless, just looking for somewhere else to be. Logstedshire had briefly crossed his mind, but it was out of the question. He’d spent so long fighting to get out of there, trying to move away from the hurt it had caused him. It was all he had left now, and that had been blown up, too. None of this would have happened if he’d just stayed put anyway.

The thoughts crumbled away at the edges of his mind, and instead he walked into the night.

*

_It was cold_.

“Is that-?”

“How the hell did he get out here?”

“More like _why_?”

“Do we leave him?”

“...I don’t know.”

*

Mornings at Techno’s house always had a grounding familiarity to them. They had a routine, and each day followed it with a calming sense of ease.

The fire, still glowing from the night before, was brought back to full life again; its amber glow pushing through the cold of the outside and keeping his little world warm and comfortable. He’d throw a kettle of tea over it – maybe hot chocolate, if Tommy had been pestering about it – and stir the leaves until it had steeped enough to be drinkable. Sometimes they threw pecans on after, gathering them up in little pouches for when they were out in the snow.

Techno had gotten used to Tommy’s constant stream of sleepy chatter as he trailed around behind him. Usually not helping much with opening the shutters, but recently he had gotten into the swing of things.

As Tommy awoke now, he was more than happy to stay hidden under the layer of fluffy blankets Techno had given him. The house already smelt like tea, though, which meant that he had slept in.

Yawning, he pushed himself up into a stretch - then immediately flinched out of it in pain; aches catching up with him and sending him shooting back into the ball he had initially been curled up in. His body protested the sudden movement, screeching out at him in the same way that it had when he’d first come to live with Techno.

The second time he sat up, he was far gentler with himself. Carefully manoeuvring himself into a sitting position, he rubbed sleep out of his eyes. His head was hurting. It ached something stubborn, a cotton wool stuffy feeling of pressure building up behind his eyes, and seemed to radiate down his neck and shoulders. He’d definitely been bleeding, too, scuffs and scrapes and burns still freshly stinging.

First things first, he’d have to tackle those. It was nothing a health potion couldn’t ease, but it was still probably going to sting like a bitch for a while. And he was dehydrated, which wasn’t helping.

Carefully this time, he pushed himself up onto his elbows. It still hurt, but it was bearable. The rest of his body came next, and then he was balancing on shaky legs. He liberated one of the blankets from his bed to wrap around himself, and headed up into the rest of the house.

Techno was sat in his living room, axe braced gently over his knee as he polished it, Phil sat to his side chatting to him quietly. They were talking in hushed voices, voices that stopped abruptly as Tommy walked in. It was nice, though, to see Phil. He wasn’t usually anywhere near them, because he was supposed to be under house arrest-

_Fire_. _L’Manberg._

The bombs which reigned down, their explosions still ringing in his ears, the tone sitting just a little too in-touch with his migraine.

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

Tommy froze; there wasn’t anywhere for him to go, or anything for him to defend himself with. He stepped back, quickly. Too quick. It rocked him slightly, a stab of pain shooting through him as his body tried to catch up with him.

Running was an option. Not an easy option, but it was an option. How could he have forgotten? It was stupid of him, to wake up with only the echoes of what he’d hoped had been a nightmare.

“Tommy,” Phil started, and then seemed to think better of it. The momentary concern he saw flash across his face was smoothed out in seconds.

Taking another quick step backwards, Tommy shook his head, “You destroyed L’Manberg. You betrayed us.”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“Why am I here?” He was making a pointed attempt to ignore Phil, directing the question in Techno’s direction instead.

A new, sweeping fear broke over him the second Techno opened his mouth to speak, Tommy immediately cut him off.

“You’re going to send me back to Dream;” his breath caught, a nasty, panicked, choking action, “You can’t send me back to him. _Please_ , please, I’ll go, I’ll leave and you don’t ever have to see my face again, but don’t send me back. I _can’t_ , Techno, you know I can’t. _Please_.”

He was begging, and he knew it. The words drove an age-old humiliation home into his pride, but between the fear that was fighting its way up his throat and the idea of Dream again, his ego got trampled to the dirt in the scramble to escape it.

_No. No, no, no, he couldn’t go back_.

Panic got the better of his actions and he was moving then, scrambling out of his blanket and towards the door. He stumbled, twice, ribs yelling out for him to stop as he clawed at the door handle, finally managing to wrench it open with another hit of pain.

Then a hand was on the door, forcing it shut again.

Tommy spun to face Techno; far too weakened and far too vulnerable and far too panicked to do anything about it.

“ _Stop_ ,” he cried, shrinking back against the door. This was it.

Techno’s expression dropped. Where had been expecting anger, all he could see was a sadness in Techno’s eyes, distant and uncomfortable.

“We’re not going to send you back to Dream, Tommy,” he said, finally, dropping his hand and stepping back to give him space. “I can’t believe you think I’d do that.”

Even with the added space, Tommy didn’t move himself away from the door. All of his energy had been taken in the scramble, so now his body was making him pay double time for it. He settled instead for sliding down the wood until he hit the floor, palms splayed against the cool stone. He didn’t raise his eyes to meet Techno’s.

“Then why _am_ I here?”

Techno sighed and crossed the room again, returning to his seat beside Phil.

“We found you unconscious out in the grass. You looked like shit.”

“Oh.”

The initial panic was draining out of Tommy now. Either he was calming down, or his body had ran out of energy to use for panicking and was redirecting sources entirely into hurting.

Now was Phil’s turn to speak, “Why were you even out there? You’ll catch your death out there.”

An ironic tone of parental concern had slipped into Phil’s tone, and it made Tommy laugh blearily, “Well, you see, I was kind of recently made homeless.”

That shut Phil up. He closed his mouth, pressing it into a thin line and turning his gaze back towards his knees. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Seconds ticked by, long and uncomfortable. Tommy considered running again, and then talked himself out of it. It’d have been a stupid idea, and he’d made enough of those recently.

Finally, Phil spoke again, “Let me go and get a healing potion for you before your wounds get infected.”

He stood up, silently brushing away non-existent dirt, and walked out. His footsteps were mechanical, but moving.

More beats of silence played out, louder than the first time. Tommy stared at Techno, and Techno stared into the fire, pretending that he didn’t notice Tommy watching him.

“This wasn’t supposed to end like this,” Tommy said, when he’d managed to work his voice around the lump in his throat.

Techno made no move to look at him. “Wasn’t it? You seemed pretty certain of yourself when you betrayed me.”

It was a jab, and it hit somewhere wounded under his skin. Tommy didn’t mention it, because Techno was right. He rolled his head back, moving so he could stare up at the ceiling instead, “It wasn’t _you_ that I was betraying. I mean, I didn’t mean to betray you. You were my friend,” the word ‘were’ echoed around his head, and it hurt everywhere it struck, “But I couldn’t let Tubbo get hurt, either. He’s more than just politics.”

Sharply, Techno turned to face Tommy.

“ _And I’m_ _not_?”

His lips were pulled back into a snarl, low and defensive, layered on thick to try and cover the hurt that stood out so distinctly underneath it.

Tommy hesitated.

“I- Of course you are. Why couldn’t I have sided with both of you? I liked being here, and I liked when you defended me. But then you betrayed me and—”

“And you realised you only liked me when you could use me as a shield, and then I didn’t matter to you anymore.”

“No! No. I never saw you as a weapon. You were strong, the strongest of all of us, and- and you made me laugh! And I liked sharing a house with you, and spending time with you, and getting to do things together...” he trailed off, uncertain. Unsure if he should spill his emotions to someone who wouldn’t have hesitated to kill him earlier.

But then again, would either of them have? In the heat of battle, could either of them have made the killing blow? He tucked his knees up closer to his chest again.

Techno raked a hand through his hair, posture collapsing, “Just because I’m strong doesn’t mean I don’t feel things. And it hurts, the way people look at me.”

He sounded uncertain himself now. As if his walls didn’t come down that far, not enough to share anything about himself with the world, no matter where he placed them in his life. Somehow Phil had managed to get through them, but no one else really stood a chance of following.

That didn’t mean Tommy couldn’t try.

“Then talk to me about it. I promise I’ll listen.”

Techno eyed him incredulously, moving to a snapping snarl again, “And why would I trust you after everything?”

Too much pushing too fast. Tommy ran a hand through his hair. It caught in the tangles, but he pretended it hadn’t.

“You don’t have a good reason to. I can’t ask you to trust me. But I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

The tiniest laugh escaped Techno’s lips then. It was barely there, but it was unmistakeable, “Don’t give yourself so much credit, Tommy. I’d like to think I played a pretty big role in what went down.”

Tommy breathed a laugh.

“Maybe.”

“But I didn’t mean for this to happen, either,” he sighed, “I mean, I don’t agree with this government thing. I’m never going to support it. But I was in retirement, man. All I wanted was my stupid farm.”

He stretched his hands out then, turning them over as if he was inspecting them for blood.

“Well,” Tommy hummed with a frown, “You could still go back to farming.”

“Things are a little bit more complicated now.”

Pushing himself forward, Tommy nodded, “They are. And you know why that is, right?”

“Because we’re trigger-happy?”

“No! No. There’s only one person responsible for all of this.”

Techno put his hands away to frown at Tommy.

“Eh?”

Something was relighting itself in Tommy now, building through him like a spark, “Who has been here, every time? Who tried to blame me for the community house? Made your work be the trigger of all of yesterday? He walks away scratch free every time-”

“-And leaving us to bask in the shithole he created,” Techno finished, breath soft and alight.

“Exactly!”

“So what are you suggesting we do?”

“I think,” Tommy said, taking a breath to steady the heart that had triple-started in his chest again, “I think we need to kill him.”


End file.
